No Man's Land
by Dazzlious
Summary: Christmas – a time for peace, even between old enemies?


_A/N: I know it's been a while, but I'm back with the first of three short stories for Christmas. Merry Christmas everyone and thank you for reading my stories, I really do appreciate it. Dx_

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Draco pulled the green and silver scarf tighter around his neck as he walked through the dark, the cold causing dragon's breath, silver-white on the night air. As he made his way to his destination, the crisp snow crunching beneath his boots, he marvelled as he always did at this time of year at how peaceful and picturesque the school grounds were blanketed in a thick layer of white, with glinting icicles hanging from every tree and bush; even the Whomping Willow gained an attractiveness it could never normally muster. Although Hogwarts was already magical it seemed more so tonight. The thick, sparkling snow seemed to deaden all sound; the other students were quiet, too, as if not wanting to spoil the magic, only the odd few conversing in low whispers as they made their way down the hill.

He had always loved this time of year, and not for the presents as he knew everyone would think, although they were definitely a bonus. No, Draco loved the winter with its crisp, cold days that made the skin tingle and blizzard-filled nights spent in front of a roaring fire eating toasted crumpets and drinking thick hot chocolate. For him, there was nothing better than a brisk walk on a cold winter's day, the landscape looking so clean and peaceful, knowing that at the end there would be blessed warmth and something to chase away the chill.

Draco stopped, standing like the rest of the school around a massive Christmas tree that was currently in darkness but would soon, once the Headmaster gave the signal, burst into light and colour, astonishing in both its size and the spectacularness of its decorations. He could feel his heart beating faster, the excitement building inside him at what was to come, although being Slytherin he would sneer and pretend that he would prefer to be anywhere but there, like the rest of his peers, when the time came. But now, for these few minutes before it all began, he could savour the purity in silence.

As they waited, the tension building as the moment of illumination grew closer, Draco's eye was drawn upwards into the clear night sky, where a myriad of stars were twinkling away brightly and a half-moon added weak light. He watched as a circle of light shot across the sky, a blazing ball of energy falling through the blackness of space and, as he had been taught to do as a small child, he followed its progress, a wish repeating itself in his head over and over as he watched it disappear into nothingness.

'Did you see that?' Blaise said, trying to sound unimpressed but not quite managing it. 'It was a shooting star.'

Draco nodded, not yet ready to respond. He was still enjoying the sight of a falling star on a night like this.

'Did you make a wish?' Blaise asked. He had recovered himself now and sounded amused at the idea of something as stupid as making a wish on a falling star.

'Of course, did you?' Draco replied, his tone was bored as if the whole evening was one big trial he was having to endure under duress.

'Always wish on a falling star, my grandmother used to say,' Blaise said wisely. 'Not sure why because it never comes true, does it?' Slyly, he added, 'So what did you wish for then, Draco?'

Before Draco could answer, the noise level rose, a ripple of excitement running through the crowd as they realised the tree was about to be lit up. He glanced around and spotted Potter, Weasley and Granger standing close by, all looking excited, of course.

He shrugged nonchalantly. 'It doesn't matter what it was, does it? As you said, it'll never come true.'

What Draco had told Blaise was correct. His wish could never come true, however much he might wish it would, he knew that. He glanced once more at the Gryffindor trio, then gesturing to Crabbe and Goyle, who had been standing nearby talking quietly to each other, began to move closer to the tree.

'Where are you going?' Blaise asked. 'You don't really want to do this, do you?'

Draco looked disgusted. 'Of course not, Blaise. It's a complete waste of time. But my father told me not to do anything that would stick out so it's time to join all those other eager little beavers and make nice for a change. Look on the bright side: at least we'll get a drink shortly, which will warm us up, and if nothing goes wrong we'll be back in the common room in an hour and can have some hot chocolate. I've still got some brandy left from Theo's birthday bash, so we can have a tot of that each to take away the pain.' 

* * *

Draco was trying to look around without being spotted. Someone near him was singing and he was interested to know who it was; without anyone knowing he was interested, of course. As he turned he realised it was Granger. She was singing properly, too, not just mumbling the words like most of the students did, and she had a pretty good voice. Very good, actually, now he was listening to her properly. He couldn't help but wonder why she had never joined the school choir. She would definitely have been an asset.

Interestingly, listening to Granger singing was making him want to sing properly, too, a trait apparently shared by a number of people in the vicinity as the mumbling had suddenly become recognisable words throughout their small crowd. But above it all was the Mudblood's voice: sweet and high, and absolutely perfect for Christmas carols. Draco closed his eyes as he listened to her, the crystal clear tones surrounding and cocooning him, and he shivered, not from the cold but from the goose bumps that had been raised on his skin from the exquisite sound; the chance to finally relax a little almost overwhelming him.

He opened his eyes to stare at the Christmas tree with its lights and decorations and took a sip of the spicy mulled cider he was cupping in his hands, a feeling of peace and pure enjoyment flooding through him as the singing continued. This was Christmas, the real thing, the one part of it he looked forward to so much each year. The rest of the holiday, when he went home to Malfoy Manor with its excesses and showiness was nothing but a sham, the whole festive period with its lavish decorations and the excessive amount of presents designed to showcase how much better off his family were than everyone else they knew. It was so fake it made him feel sick sometimes, and often he had wished that he had been allowed to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, despite taking the piss out of anyone who actually did.

But this year, as with almost every other year, he was going home, and this time he dreaded it more than usual. Things had changed considerably for his family since his father had been sent to Azkaban. The atmosphere at home was tense and uncomfortable, especially once Draco had taken the Dark Mark, which he knew his mother had never wanted him to do even if Aunt Bellatrix was proud of him for it.

He had spent the whole term on a knife's edge as he tried to think of ways to fulfil the task the Dark Lord had assigned him when he took his Mark, but as yet he hadn't been even vaguely successful. His only attempt so far had ended in failure and with one of the students, a Gryffindor seventh year called Katie Bell, in hospital after being cursed by the necklace he had given her to deliver. She didn't know it was him although even if she had she was so seriously ill that she wouldn't have been able to say anything to anyone. But his failure had shaken him to the core and he was having difficulty coming up with a new plan.

It didn't help when his popularity seemed to have taken a nosedive as well. When he had heard that Professor Slughorn was joining Hogwarts Draco had confidently expected to be invited to meet him, having heard from his father all about 'the Slug Club' of the past and 'Sluggie's rising stars', of which his father had been one. But he hadn't been summoned, even though Potter and the Weasley girl had made it into the Club, along with Blaise. Even Longbottom and the Mudblood had received invitations, but not Draco. He was apparently persona non grata because of his father's mistake.

He had ended up trying to gatecrash Slughorn's Christmas party in hopes that it might give him some ideas or an opportunity to proceed with his task, but instead he had been hauled up in front of the whole party by that tosser, Filch, and then given an ear-bending by Snape, who was trying to muscle in on Draco's task. It had been embarrassing beyond belief, especially with the Mudblood there watching, looking embarrassed on his behalf, and he found himself hating her more than ever because of it.

But now, out here in the cold night air, her crystal clear voice was soothing him in a way he would never have imagined possible, and just for a moment he could believe that everything was perfect. 

* * *

It was dark except for the moonlight and stars, and the trek back up to the school was long and cold now there was nothing to look forward to, although there would be warmth and a hot drink when they reached the castle. Draco wandered in his own little world, his friends having realised he didn't want company, as he hadn't for most of the year so far. They left him in their eagerness to be back indoors in the warmth, Draco enjoying still the coldness that had frozen his cheeks and the end of his nose.

He stopped and turned to look back down the hill, past the Christmas tree that still stood blazing in the field in front of the Forbidden Forest and towards the standing stones, which looked even eerier than usual coated in snow that sparkled in the faint moonlight. At the moment it really did look like it could be the portal to another realm. For a moment he wished he could run away, could forget all about the task he had to perform, but before he could even consider it properly the thought was gone. He had no choice but to continue. His entire family's survival depended on his success.

Draco's shoulders slumped as the weight he had to bear threatened to overwhelm him once more, and he scrubbed at his eyes, wiping away the tears that had formed there. He had to get a grip on himself before he went back to the common room. He couldn't risk anyone finding out how weak he was otherwise his life wouldn't be worth living.

'Happy Christmas, Draco.'

Draco turned, staring in surprise at the person who had just spoken.

Hermione Granger gave him a small smile, seemingly a little embarrassed, as she waited presumably for him to join her.

Draco just scowled in response.

Hermione shrugged. 'Fine, don't reply, then. I suppose I should have expected it really.'

'Why would I talk to you, Granger? We're not friends,' Draco retorted.

'No, but it is Christmas,' she answered mildly. When Draco showed no sign of moving, Hermione wandered over to him. 'Even enemies can be friends at Christmas, you know. In the Muggles' First World War, the German and English troops stopped fighting on Christmas Day. They even came out of the trenches and into No Man's Land to talk to one another, to play football, share food and drink and pictures from home. They sang carols and everything.'

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. 'I don't know why they did that. What was the point when they were just going to go back to killing each other afterwards?'

'Maybe they thought it might change things,' Hermione said quietly. Draco gave a snort of derision. 'Maybe there was hope that they might not have to kill each other in the future, that things would get better for them. When times are bad you have to hope things will improve, or what's the point of living?'

'It doesn't work like that, though,' Draco replied bitterly. 'Nothing gets better, it just gets more difficult; and making friends with your enemies only makes it worse. You need to accept that, Mudblood, and move on and stop trying to rock the boat.'

Hermione flinched slightly at the slur but then rallied. 'But why should I accept it? If there's one time of the year when we should be nice to each other it's now, at Christmas. We don't know what's going to happen in the future, especially with regard to You-Know-Who, but I have no intention of letting that stop me wishing everyone a Happy Christmas regardless of who they are.'

'Are you going to go and tell Him that?' Draco asked snarkily.

Hermione pursed her lips for a second, then sighed. 'I don't think there's any point, do you? But you're different, Draco. You're not too far gone to understand about humanity and the need for hope. And however hard you try to play the bad man, I think inside you're just as scared as the rest of us are — maybe more so because you have to deal with Vol— You-Know-Who at much closer quarters than we have to most of the time.'

'You've got no idea what you're talking about,' Draco retorted. 'I'm not scared of the future, I'm looking forward to it, Mudblood — a time when people like you are no longer around to ruin our world.'

Hermione looked hurt at Draco's comment and she blinked away tears that suddenly sprang into her eyes.

Quietly she said, 'I'm sorry I disturbed you, then. I'll leave now so you can brood on your own. But I still hope you have a happy Christmas.'

As she turned to walk away Draco, suddenly feeling like a heel for what he had just said, knowing it was the same sort of automatic retaliation he always used against her when this time she had just been trying to be friendly, grabbed hold of Hermione's shoulder, stopping her and turning her back to face him.

'Granger . . . Hermione . . . I'm sorry.' He sighed, feeling awkward as he tried to decide what to say next.

Hermione studied him for a few seconds, then nodded and gave him another small smile. Draco stared back, not sure what to say or do next.

'Things will get better for us all, Draco.'

'Not in this lifetime,' Draco shot back unhappily, suddenly reminded of the task he still had to accomplish and of what would happen if or when he failed.

And then Hermione was next to him, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

'They will. We just have to believe it,' she told him, and she kissed him on the cheek.

Draco stared at her in stunned amazement as she moved away, his hand reaching up to stroke his cheek.

'Hermione!'

He caught hold of Hermione's hand and pulled her back towards him, wrapping his arm around her as he gave her a brief and tender kiss on the lips. He released her and they stared at each other for several seconds, the awkwardness already building between them again.

'Happy Christmas, Hermione,' Draco told her, his voice husky and with a tenderness that hadn't been there before.

At exactly the same moment, Hermione said briskly, 'Well, I suppose we should be getting back to the castle. Harry and Ron will be wondering where I've got to.'

She gave a small embarrassed laugh and bit her lip nervously. Draco realised she was blushing.

'You need to go,' he agreed.

Hermione stared at him for another couple of seconds, then gave him a small wave.

'Thank you,' she whispered, then turned and hurried away before Draco had a chance to stop her.

He watched her until she had disappeared into the dark, then slowly began to amble back to the school thinking about what Hermione had said and the kiss they had just shared. He smiled. It wasn't quite what he had wished for on the shooting star, but it was close, at least as close as he was ever going to get.


End file.
